A Wedding Night
by Harpy101
Summary: These are not my characters and this is not my story. The final line in italics is not mine and is included purely for continuity.


Anna sat on the edge of the bed, after turning it down. She wasn't sure what else to do. She looked at the fire, the candles, and the roses (now in a vase) so thoughtfully arranged by Jane and sighed. She was happy and relieved, no question. She wanted more than anything to be married to John, so this sudden nervousness took her by surprise. Her mother had always told her that things like a wedding night tend to take care of themselves and Anna was sure it was true. But this was the man she wanted for a lifetime, so a little stage fright was surely natural. She knew she would feel better when-

Finally there was a tap on the door. Anna opened it quickly to let him in.

They stood facing each other for a moment. John took a quick look around the room. "Very nice," he said.

"Jane did it," said Anna.

"That's thoughtful,"

"We can stay all night," Anna had been standing awkwardly; he took her hand in his. His touch brought her back to herself, and to them. "I've been-a little-nervous, I think," she said, laughing.

His eyes flashed back and forth into hers.

"I've-" she swallowed, "You know, I've never-"

He led her to the bed, where they both sat.

"I'm being silly," she said.

"I love you," he said.

He cupped a hand on her cheek and pulled her forward. Anna fell into the kiss completely, forgetting her thoughts. Her skin seemed to be generating heat on the inside, her heart was beginning to pound.

He stood and took off his coat, hanging it over one of the chairs, then his vest. Anna began with his tie and he helped her, smiling. She unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt and took a breath of him, the warm scent of him. Shirt, collar and tie went over the chair and Anna took a moment to put her hands on his chest, enjoying the way his undershirt clung to his shape. He kissed her forehead, the bridge of her nose, and ran a finger over her maid's cap.

"How do these things stay on?"

Anna smiled. She took the pins out of the cap, showing him. She was about to take the rest of her hair down but he stopped her, turned her back to him and began taking the pins out himself, setting them on the dresser. Anna's hair came down. He sighed and took a step in, hands on her shoulders, kissing her neck. Anna's skin felt as if it were melting under his mouth. He was untying her apron, then unbuttoning her maid's dress; he slipped it over her shoulders and it slid to the floor. The dress went over another chair.

Anna watched his eyes. There was no assessment in his look, no judgement. When men looked at Anna she always had the feeling she was being weighed and measured, but John's expression showed none of that.

John had the look of someone gazing at something rare and natural, like a a rainbow after a storm. It was a look of wonder. He reached for her hand, holding it palm-up; he traced circles in her palm with his thumb, running his hand up her forearm, up to her shoulder, around the back of her neck. His hands were wide, warm and smooth on her skin, and under his touch Anna felt comfort and caring, and with it a deep stirring. The mix was powerful enough to make her dizzy.

He was kissing her and pushing the straps of her chemise over her shoulders. Anna's hands were moving under his undershirt, her fingers first tentatively touching, then combing through the soft hair on his belly and further up on his chest, more and more freely. It was silky between her fingers. John walked her back to the bed, sat her on the edge and knelt between her feet. He unbuckled one of her shoes, set it aside and held her stocking foot in his hands. He stayed still for a moment, holding her foot. Anna was stroking his hair back from his temples and kissing him; she stopped, too.

Their eyes met.

Anna was trembling. She said, "What is it?"

"I'm undressing you," he said, "For the first time,"

Anna understood. "I know," she said. They gazed at each other. John caressed her foot, his eyes still on her. His fingers trailed down her instep, rolled a circle around each toe, cupped her heel and stroked the arch; his hand continued up her leg to begin releasing her stocking. Anna's breath shuddered as she stretched out her other foot. She watched him doting on her and felt such a surge of affection that her eyes stung.

"John," he looked up again. She blinked. He sat beside her and pulled her into his arms. Anna rested for a minute against him until she calmed. She closed her eyes and inhaled. The scent of him stirred her again. She knelt to take his shoes off, and while doing she understood his feeling even more.

There was a kind of sacredness in this, in undressing each other. It wasn't just an unveiling, it was a ritual of receiving each other in their original states, as they had been born to. It was a new beginning for them. This tender, solemn feeling was underscored by the aching desire, an aching which burned its way closer and closer to the surface.

They stood again to finish undressing; she dropped the chemise, her last piece of clothing, and stood in front of him with her heart racing. He was finished, too, and then Anna noticed the scars. Old wounds on his chest, on his side, on his leg. She laid fingers on them, one by one.

"Do they hurt?"

"No," His eyes danced over her form, his smile faded as his eyes darkened. He brought her full against him. The sensation of being naked in the room with him, to be have her skin against his and about to finally have him, overwhelmed Anna. She suddenly had to have her hands on all of him, her mouth on all of him. She pulled him back to the bed. He resumed kissing her but it wasn't urgent enough. When would she get to have him again? What new troubles might spring up? She was pushing him back and down, crawling over him, feasting on him. Anna tried to put the thought away but it was driving her - that this might be the only time she would have with him. If it was, she would have all of him. She kissed her way down his neck, his chest, his belly, lower while his hands wandered over her. She fell in love with the expanse of his shoulders, the twisted scar on his side, the luxurious hair that tickled her nose, the tender skin on the inner curve of his hip, the length of this thighs. As she took him in hand she was lifted and flipped; he was over her now.

Their eyes met again and Anna gave a little sob of craving. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing her legs apart under him, her body curving up. He lowered himself slowly but she couldn't wait for gentleness.

"Now, now," she begged, and his first push did hurt. It stung and she gritted her teeth, bit her lower lip, and moved against him again. He was looking at her and about to speak, and Anna pulled him down as she pushed up, giving a long gasp of pleasure as she took him deeper. She had felt this craving many times, the deep down cry to have him inside her where there was no pain, only pure exultation.

Anna's body seemed to be transforming. She didn't feel herself a collection of limbs and processes now; now she felt that she was one organism, like an open flower, one thing that lived to receive. She lifted her legs higher to open. The little band of pain couldn't dim what was happening deeper where her voluptuous silkiness undulated around him. She was writhing under him now, gripping handfuls of bedding and dancing with him, throwing herself onto him and it was the most perfect thing she had ever done, the thing she had longed for a thousand times and more, and now Anna was completely lost in him and to him and a high, thin keening escaped before she could stop it - she raised her head and their mouths mashed together.

He was pushing her apart now, pushing her wider and deeper, taking even more of her. She felt him coming to full with her and had no idea how she could withstand more but she did, she could, she opened more as he drove her to the limit, his mouth next to hers as his name escaped from her throat over and over in a high whisper. His simple, masculine perfection permeated her. The man she loved was hers now, well and truly hers. They locked against each other as they finished.

Anna shook all over, within, and in her mind. She was shaken. She could not have prepared for this much joy. She had collapsed under it, and now she floated on it. Now she knew herself in a new way.

They fell apart. After a time John arranged covers over both of them. Anna rearranged the fold of the linen in mock housemaid style, patting it place several times. He corrected her rearrangement, mocking her in return. She exploded in giggles, covering her mouth. His eyes sparkled as he laughed with her.

They beamed at each other, finally calming.

"_Well," John said, "Mrs. Bates..."_

The final line in italics is not mine. It's included purely for continuity.


End file.
